Victorian Home
Polly's family was normal, she lived inside a modern (at the time - early 20th century to be exact) home in an upper class English neighbourhood. Like all good children she behaved, recognized what she did wrong when she didn't, and was happy. Her parents prided themselves around the town - what a good family they were, and what a good girl Polly was. Polly herself was rather proud of this. As long as Polly could remember, her parents would engage in rather strange behaviours. When she had eaten all her vegetables and had left only a few scraps she couldn't eat (especially if she wanted some of her mother's delicious pudding), she put them on a plate and walked out. Her neighbour had a friendly dog who would have appreciated the food, and it was better than just putting it in the trash. However, her father had stopped her and told her that he would take care of the scraps. She noticed that he didn't eat them, and when she asked, her father simply said that he would dispose of the scraps in a much more efficient way - after Polly was in bed. Polly was not allowed to move about the house as she pleased after a certain hour though. On several occasions she called out for her mother (She didn't have a nanny. Her mother was fully capable of taking care of her.) when she heard a noise, but she was told never to wander around the house at night. It was a scary place after dark - and her parents wanted to protect her from anything that would frighten her in the darkness of night. One of these notable things? A noise from above. She had thought that there was something from below her floor, only for her mother and father to always tell her that it was nothing - just the wind. Sometimes, she thought she could hear noises that sounded like a voice. Yelling. She couldn't make out what the yelling was. One night, when she was nearing her tenth birthday, she was sent to bed early after her father had collected her table scraps. The young inquisitive mind wanted more information than what her parents had told her. She could see light from downstairs, and even heard voices. She slowly walked down the stairs to eavesdrop on her parents, before hearing it... that noise. The shouts from below. She froze in a cold sweat... Every time she heard that noise, she froze in fear. Polly quickly ran up to her room and closed her eyes. Not long after, her mother opened up the door. Polly pretended to be asleep. Her mother sat down on a chair in the room. Polly didn't dare to open her eyes - she didn't want to be caught disobeying her parents. She was such the perfect girl after all, and this would make her parents angry. She waited for what seemed like an eternity. Until that was, she broke out in a cold sweat - there was another loud set of noises. Just like the ones she was used to. Her mother had stood in the doorway, while she heard what sounded like screaming. Banging. Like a struggle. Had a burglar broken into the house? Polly was too scared to move. She clutched a wad of blanket and curled up in fear. Her mother had rushed down to the stairs, following the sound of a window breaking. Polly finally could stand it no longer and ran out of bed. She was greeted with the sight of a window leading out to the street with a massive hole in it. It had been shattered - and not from someone outside. It had been shattered from something on the inside. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. Polly cried out several times. "Mummy? Mummy! Father! Father!" She finally turned around. An odd scent caught her nose. She felt something odd underneath her bare feet as she walked past the dining room, all the way to the kitchen. She gasped when she saw something she had never seen before... the door to the cellar. Her parents told her that she should never go down there. There was a light from down there, and she could hear sobbing. Her mother's sobbing. The smell was even stronger as she went down to the doorway where she was never allowed to cross. Steeling herself, Polly took a few steps down the stairway. Her mother's sobbing got louder, as did the smell. The smell was like something of a toilet that had never been cleaned. Polly put her nose into her nightgown and went closer. She finally turned a corner, and was greeted with a scene she would never forget. Her father was leaning against a wall, disoriented, and nursing a small wound that had been delivered by something. Her hysterical mother didn't know what to do, she was so frightened. Polly looked past her parents... and her mouth dropped open. Against the wall was a set of chains, like those used to keep a prisoner of war. Several plates had been put down on the ground, and a pot - obviously the source of the stink, had been overturned. Her mother turned around and saw the stunned Polly. Her father murmured a few things, while her mother ran over and hugged Polly. "Polly... I'm so sorry... did he hurt you?" she asked. "Wh-who? The burglar?" Polly asked. "It was..." Her mother broke into tears. "Oh Polly, there was a monster we kept in the basement, and he escaped. Tell me you didn't see him, did you?" "N-No!" Polly cried, "Is father okay?" "I-I'm fine." As if on cue, her father finally came to his senses. "We need to get to a doctor's... and summon the police. Where did he go?" "I-I heard a window smash, and the window to the front is broken." "Oh no... OH NO..." her father shouted, running up the stairs. "Wait! You're hurt! Allow me!" Polly's mother let go of her daughter and ran after the husband. "If you hadn't given birth to that THING this never would have happened!! Now everyone will know!" her father shouted. "Please not in front of Polly!" Polly simply held her mouth, and felt tears flowing from her eyes, as her parents shouted at each other. She had known them to have the occasional quarrel, but never like this. All she was able to make out was how it was her mother's fault for giving birth to a monster... or her father's, as punishment for what he had done on the holiday. Or her mother's fault, for being too proud to give him off to the asylum. Or her father's, for letting him go for just a moment. Her parents vanished out of sight, momentarily forgetting about Polly. Polly looked down at the floor, seeing footprints of something. Thinking of nothing better to do, she ran up to her bedroom crying. Category:Mental Illness Category:History Category:Beings